Chapter 50

Sinead was pissed off. With herself, and with him. And it switched back and forth who she was the most angry with.

She couldn’t believe she’d allowed him to do those things to her. To spank her with a fucking paddle like she was a bad kid in the 1950s? Everything before that night had been ... it hadn’t been that. She wasn’t a fucking child that he got to punish. He wasn’t an authority over her with that right. They weren’t anything to each other, he wasn’t even her boyfriend. They just ... traded things. And he’d taken more than she’d agreed to.

Fuck, she couldn’t even believe she’d let him call her a ‘brat.’ She was an adult woman and a successful police detective.

And then she ... threw herself at him. Verbally.

How could I think about going back to him at all? Sinead thought to herself. It had been a moment of weakness that had gotten way too familiar in the past few weeks, and she’d finally given in.

She knew sex with Marc would probably be really good. Maybe even the best she’d ever get. But he or that wasn’t worth debasing herself. She could go to any bar in the city and walk out with someone who could give her good sex if she really wanted it that badly.

Sinead grit her teeth, sitting in her car as she tapped her foot on the break. Glancing at the passenger seat, she felt her jaw flexing as she looked over the stack of files there - she’d parsed out as much of the files as she could from Marc’s USB drive, but a lot of it was still another language to her. She needed Marc to help her sort through all of it, but she was done giving in to his bullshit. She needed to turn the tables on him - he had what she needed, but that didn’t mean he had all the power.

Getting out of her car, Sinead slammed the door shut and locked it as she headed into the office building. She flashed her badge to the security guy at the front, who seemed to recognize her and nodded, and she went to the elevator bank. As she got into one she was again struck by the muted opulence of the lobby and elevator. She felt like she was stepping onto the set of Suits - though that building was down the street, having mostly filmed in Toronto. She’d worked extra duty security for a couple of their outdoor night shoots earlier in her career.

Unlike the last time Sinead had stormed Marc’s office, and not wanting to hand him more leverage to feel superior or more well-mannered or whatever, this time Sinead didn’t blast past the secretary who was positioned at a long desk in front of the elevator bank. Instead, she approached the desk, and she had the feeling that the secretary recognised her.

“Hi,” she said and flashed her badge again. “I need to see Marc Fornier.”

“Mister Fornier is currently in a meeting,” the secretary said with a polite smile. “I’ll let him know that you’re here if you’d like to wait, or I can pass along a message if you can’t.”

“I’ll wait,” Sinead said.

“Can I get you a refreshment?” the woman asked. The longer Sinead talked with her, the more she realised how ridiculously attractive the woman was - sharp features, perfect hair, just the right amount of cleavage to tempt someone to look. She was wearing a sleek dress that highlighted her slender form - she could have been a model. Hell, she could have been an underwear model, with that face and body.